A Little Push
by Inigo
Summary: What happens when Bruce's anger and grief take over and Batman's rule is on the verge of being broken? Will he die a hero or live long enough to see him self become the villain? Purely Joker and Batman, M for J/B slash in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I do not own any of the characters in this story, though with all my heart I wish I did...Ah, at least I can dream. I'm rating this M for future chapters, though it depends on how brave I'm feeling as I write. XD I Loved The Dark Knight, but only for the Joker...he rocks my world. R.I.P. the legendary Heath Ledger. Let's here it for him claps her hands with the purple and green nails

Please R&R, I will love you forever. I haven't written anything for ages, so I hope you enjoy this. x

The metal bar of scaffolding pinned Batman down and as he fought against it's weight, the Joker loomed over him, holding a knife in his bloodstained fingers. "It's a funny world we live in. Speaking of which, do you know how I got these scars?" He licked the scars at the corners of his mouth for emphasis and stared down at his capture.

"No," Now the Batman was ready, armoured forearm positioned in the Joker's face, "but I know how you got these ones."

The lethal metal spikes that shot forth from his forearm, hit home and the Joker yelped, recoiling backwards, as Batman heaved himself up and threw his weight against the Joker.

He fell from the scaffolding, a mighty drop. His manic laughter filled the ever increasing distance between them.

For those few moments the Joker and the Batman were the only two individuals in existence, but it was Bruce who took the leap.

His armour weighing him down, he fell faster than the Joker and had caught up with him still with a great stretch of falling yet to do. He grabbed the slighter man round the waist and his wings billowed out behind them, pulling them out of their swift descent and gliding both men over the bulk of cop cars that formed the perimeter to the site. Batman steered them down an alleyway and at 6 foot, dropped the Joker before making a not entirely graceful landing himself. Batman hauled himself up and turned to face the Joker who was chuckling as he pulled himself to standing, making a show of wiping the grime from his long purple coat. He opened his mouth to speak but the Batman ran forward and head butted him, knocking the Joker unconscious, who then fell to the floor. Though the Batman stood over the limp form of this nemesis, it was Bruce who stared down at the other man, raging emotions of anger and grief and those so deep they could not be named, fought to be heard within him. Bruce's head swam with the laughing face of the Joker and the dead body of Rachel and the look of horror on Dent's face as he burst through the doors into the warehouse that should have held Rachel. As the alleyway dissolved into darkness, Batman took hold again and brought Bruce back to his senses. He leaned down to the Joker's form, where it lay in a oily puddle, and picked the man up, before carrying him off, away from the police cars and to the place where he had left the tumbler's motorcycle. He positioned himself on the motorcycle, with the Joker's body lying slumped in front of him. He revved the motorcycle into life and sped away, not quite knowing where he was going, but things had changed now, and he had to follow this through. He was so close to breaking his one rule, hadn't that been what the Joker had told him he must do? Live in the world without rules. He'd upset the established order, his own established order, and now everything was turning into chaos.

The Joker awoke with a start, to find himself fuzzy headed in a small dank room, with the blood from the wounds on his face drying on his scarred cheeks and down his shirt. The room almost looked like a cell, like the one in which he'd been interrogated by the Batman, though without the give-away mirror, badly concealing a one way window. He licked his scars and stared around him, he's been stripped of his over jacket and his gloves and shoes had been removed, it was then that he noticing the powerful bindings that held his hands in place behind his back and firmly on the chair. He struggled against it, shaking his hands and twisting his body this way and that to feel for any give in the bindings, but there was none. He was trapped, a rabbit in a snare. He admired the Batman for that, at least he knew he was in the secure hands of a professional.

The lights flickered on above him and he smirked as the figure of the Batman appeared through the lessening gloom.

"You…you…ha-ha, huh huh, ho-ho, he-he…you, you, you." A lick of the lips, all the time not losing eye contact with the black clad vigilantly who stood before him. "You just couldn't let me go, could ya?"

Batman stood perfectly still, staring into the fathomless eyes of his nemesis, watching, waiting.

"Is the Batman ready to break his one rule, I wonder. Was the falling to my mutilated death not good enough for you? You want it be a little more, should we say…personal? Don't get me wrong, I respect a man who enjoys the finer things in life." He erupted into maniacal laughter, and shook his head, his lank green hair whipped across his face. His laughter petered to an end and he slumped in his chair, breathing deeply, though the smirk didn't leave his face.

"So, out of reach of the police, hidden away, you're gonna punish me for your mistakes? Is that it?" He clicked his tongue in mock regret as he lifted his head to the Batman's again.

"You know something? You're just like Dent. It was so easy to break him, drag him down a peg or two. Because you see," He leaned his body as forward as it would go against the bindings and lowered his voice conspiratorially, "Madness is like gravity, all it takes is a little…push." He burst into shrill cackling laughter again and Batman strode quickly to him, using a Bat-o-rang to tear through the ropes that held the Joker firmly on his seat and pulled him up by his collar to standing. He snarled in rage as the Joker continued to laugh, being fuelled by the reaction his words had received from the dark knight.

"How dare you!" Batman forcefully pushed the Joker against the wall, cutting short his laughter and producing a groan.

"What have I told you about starting with the head?" Batman tightened his grip on the man before pulling him a short distance from the wall to slam him into it again, harder that the first time.

"You killed Rachel!" His screamed this at the now bleary eyed clown as he desperately tried to keep his rage under control.

"No, no, no, no, no. _You_ killed Rachel, _you_ didn't get there fast enough. I was perfectly forthcoming with the whereabouts of them both."

Again, Batman slammed the Joker against the wall, again the groan escaped from between his blood red lips.

"You gave me the wrong address! I reached Dent!"

"Ooh, I did?" The Joker mocked concern, "I forgot that part. That's what happens when you direct forceful attention to the back of my head. I told you, fuzzy."

Batman roared with fury, and drew the Joker back from the wall a foot, to smash him back, but the vision of Rachel swam across his mind again and he stopped himself, throwing the Joker to the floor instead.

He lay still for a moment or two, his body aching, then he heaved himself up to sitting position as best he could with his hands still bound behind his back. Then he swung himself round onto his knees and albeit clumsily, made his way to standing.

He shook his head and watched the Batman who stood with his back to the Joker and his head lowered at the other side of the room. The grin left his face as he pondered the thoughts of the Dark Knight.

"Why so serious?"

Batman turned to face the Joker, his eyes glowing with hatred. The Joker raised an eyebrow and licked his scars.

"You're not so incorruptible as you show yourself to be, Bruce." He added extra emphasis to the man's real name, and received the response he was looking for, the Batman took a step back in disbelief

"How…how do you know?" The gruff voice he used to hide his own faltered and it became Bruce who spoke out to the Joker. The scarred clown chuckled a deep resonating chuckle, he lowered his head and his shoulders shook for a moment before he lifted his head to face Batman again.

"Don't you think it's obvious?" He took a step forward towards Bruce,

"I already knew you, er, Bruce Wayne, were Rachel's ex-sweetheart. Lucky bugger. Then it was obvious from then on. Where were you at your party for Dent? I did think to myself , well, he's an egotistical billionaire, saving himself above everyone else, but that didn't make sense, not when Rachel was there. So I put two and two together…I got lucky." He chuckled again, took a step closer, closer, closer. A foot was all that separated the two men, Bruce pulled himself back, as the scarred face of the Joker loomed closer and closer.

"Let me out of these chains, Bruce-y" The he turned round and offered his wrists to the dazed man behind him. He hummed a tune under his breath as he heard the key to the handcuffs click into place and unlock them.

"Ah, that's better." The Joker rubbed his sore wrists and then turned to the Batman again.

"You see, now you are just a man. No longer the symbol that was meant to…inspire fear in my cold criminals heart. And men can be broken." From a hidden pocket that Bruce hadn't found when unarming the Joker when he had been unconscious, he brought out a round handled blade, with a serrated edge. Rather than performing his usual trick of grabbing the person round the back of the head he simply smiled and walked away, back to the chair he had been tied to, where he sat down, licked his scars and crossed his legs.

"Now you're just a man in a mask, so why don't you let me see what that man is…capable of."

Bruce opened his mouth to protest but really he knew, albeit against his better judgement, that the Joker was right. He hesitated then gave in and removed his mask. A mask, a symbol of strength…remove that mask and you are simply left with a man, a man who can be broken. Bruce had never felt so vulnerable in his life. He felt small. He felt on the verge of breaking.

The Joker sat up straight in his seat and an astounded expression merged into his smile.

"Ohh, I forgot just how…beautiful you are, Bruce-y" He laughed, clapping his hands together and jigging up and down on his seat like some naughty school boy. "You truly are the Dark Knight." His said it with a strange sort of admiration, Bruce didn't truly understand.

The Joker stood and came towards Bruce again, before beginning to slowly circle him, inspecting his face and head from every angle, using the blade of his serrated knife to lift up Bruce's hair or trace the contours of his cheeks. Bruce kept as still as was possible though his breathing was deep and his eyes shiftily moving around him to keep the Joker in eye line.

"Just a man…" The Joker stopped, directly being Bruce, the unmasked man could feel the Joker's breath against the back of his neck, then feel a slight pressure around his hips before a low click made clear what the Joker had done. He had removed the suits utility belt from around his waist.

"We'll get rid of this shall we?" The Joker clicked his tongue and carried the utility belt as he moved to face Bruce. He licked his scars before continuing. "Nasty piece of equipment this is, we wouldn't want anyone to get hurt, now would we?" He chuckled before discarding the utility belt and brought his knife up close to Bruce's face once more.

"Strip the rest. I want the _complete_ man. And don't try any funny business, I'm going to inspect your belt for weaponry and we wouldn't want any accidents." He brought his face inches from Bruce's for a moment, to emphasis the threat before moving to the discarded belt and, as he had said, inspected it for weapons.

Bruce considered his options, but found there were few and that at this precise point in time, all but one resulted in pain. So he followed his instructions and stripped off the suit. Beneath was a lightweight 'cat' suit that kept the hard material of the reinforced suit off his skin. The suit fell away from his body and hit the floor with a resounding thud, making the busy Joker turn his head to Bruce to inspect the man progress. He clicked his tongue again.

"Nothing under that?" He frowned at Bruce, who looked confused for a moment.

"Just pants." Bruce replied, with a slight glow of embarrassment highlighting his cheeks. The Joker chuckled gleefully at the man's shame then barked out his next order.

"Strip to the pants, Bruce-y." To show he meant business he held up the knife again and closing one eye, scored an imaginary line across Bruce's neck. Bruce stripped to his pants.

"There. We. Go." The Joker left the half dismantled utility belt and went back to inspecting Bruce, the tip of the knife now traced the exposed man's collar bone's and the scars that littered his body. The Joker winced with mock empathy as he circled Bruce.

"Well, now I want to know how you got _those_ scars." He said, before break out into fits of spine chilling laughter. He calmed himself a little and indicated to the chair.

"You seem to be allowing me to lead this part of the proceedings, so humour me again and take a seat."

Bruce took a deep breath and made to move towards the chair, but as he took his first step forward he spun round on his feet and laid a punch squarely on the Joker's nose. The clown recoiled with a yap and clasped his blade free hand to his face. Blood dripped from beneath his fingers, but Bruce wasn't done. He pulled the knife out of the Joker's hands and landed a powerful kick to the bleeding man's torso, smashing him against the wall, where he slid to the floor.

His manic laughter rang out, seeming to echo off the stonewalls. Nothing Bruce could do would stop that laughter. He dived forward and wrenched the man off the floor, pulling him up like he'd done when the Joker had first woken up. His took hold of the bleeding man round the back of head, the clown's hand fell away from his face only to have the blade tip pushed against his skin, almost to puncture point. The Joker breathed heavily, and the grin spread across his features.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen. I wondered how long it would take you." His chuckle was deep and Bruce could feel the vibration of it though the Joker's chest, showing how close the two men were.

"You see, this is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. I think you and I are destined to do this forever."

Bruce's tense muscles relaxed a little, he allowed himself to breath again and the red rage in his eyes subsided a little. There was no stopping him, the Agent of Chaos, nothing threatened him, nothing scared him. He had nothing to lose. Bruce knew it, there were two ways the he could see this ending, both ways involved death, but only way involved him breaking his rule. But was that rule Bruce's or only the Batman's? He recollected what Dent had said at dinner, that evening that seemed so long ago, 'You either die a hero, or live long enough to watch yourself become a villain.' He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes and let the Joker go, he stepped back and dropped the knife from his hand, though he didn't hear it hit the floor. Then he turned and walked across the room to sit in the chair and resign himself to his fate.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, chapter two.  
Thank you everyone who reviewed and added me to your watch, I feel so loved!  
Slight warning, although this chapter doesn't involve anything M rated, (not even the mention of single penis) (damn I mentioned a single penis) (damn, there I go again!) this chapter does involve ...humm...smut? Slight slash folks, so not for anyone who can't handle man on man action. Ah, my second favourite action. day dreams about rachel dawes eh hem OKay then, here we go...

"Ha-ha-ha…ooh, that's more like it." The Joker moved to face Bruce in the chair, staring down at him.

"Now you really are, incorruptible." He laughed, clapping his hands together again and jumping around in front of Bruce, who stared up at him, blank expression on his face whilst in his head he knew this could be the end.

"You look nervous. I'm not gonna kill you, you know. You're too much fun!" He stood up straight and threw his hands in the air and cackled.

"You've won, Joker, because I won't kill you either." his voice was surprisingly calm. Perhaps it was because of what the Joker had said, 'I won't kill you…'

The Joker cocked his head to the side and licked his scars as he considered his response.

"Then," He said, his voice low and guttural, "We are at an impasse."

He turned and walked to the far wall and slide down it to sit on the floor facing Bruce. He toyed with his blade, using it to flake the grime off his fingers.

"Why," Bruce cleared his throat to continue, the Joker looked up at him, a questioning expression on his chiselled face. "Why did you give me the wrong address? Why did Rachel have to die?"

The Joker clicked his tongue in annoyance, "Wasn't _that_ obvious? Her death would leave the most people suffering. I had my suspicions that you would race after her and you proved them, if I had let her live, then I would have lost Dent and he was the most important part. I had to break him down…" the Joker's explanation petered out and he seemed lost for a moment, but then up he jumped and swaggered over to the seated Bruce. He got very close and held the blade up to the mostly naked man and ran it down the side of his face, not quite hard enough to draw blood, but it left a scratch.

"You need to understand, I just…do things." He was reminded of the conversation he had with Dent in the hospital, a dog chasing cars. He stared off in the distance as he kept he blade against Bruce's skin.

"We, the two most powerful men in Gotham…" He spoke softly, a whisper, staring off into space as his blade traced the contours of Bruce's face, "In a room, cut off from the rest of civilisation, entirely…alone." He snapped back to reality, if the current situation could be called reality. He leaned in closer to Bruce, who, rather than pulling back, stayed perfectly still, intrigued as to the Joker's plans, if the man had any.

"Let's play a little game," The Joker whispered this in Bruce's ear and then, to Bruce's shock, the clown sat himself down on his lap, straddling the chair. He licked his scars and continued, as Bruce fought the urge to squirm beneath him.

"Tell me, what you would rather lose, for the sake of the other." He grinned like a child and a shine came into his eyes that emphasised his madness.

"Okay, humm. Let. Me. Think. Okay, got one." He bounced on Bruce's lap like a excited puppy, then asked his question.

"Would you rather…lose…Rachel, now of course we will have to pretend that you haven't _already_ lost her, so Rachel or…Alfred." He stressed Bruce's faithful butler's name and a shiver of disgust ran through his body. He would have thrown the Joker off him, but the blade was being stroked across his prominent cheekbones. He closed his eyes, and steadied his breathing, knowing the Joker would want a swift answer.

"Alfred." He mumbled his butler's name, a wave of nausea churned in his stomach at the betrayal, but he'd give anything to have Rachel back. She was going to wait for him…he was going to be hers.

The Joker erupted into laughter again and bounced, throwing his head back.

"Okay, okay, you're turn. Ask me!" His grin grew wider, if that was possible and he stared intently at Bruce as the other man considered a suitable comeback question.

"What, would, you rather…lose? Bombs or knives?" He let out a low laugh at the idiocy of his question, but faced with a man he didn't know, or understand, who seemed not to have any background or origin, what else was there?

The Joker sat up straight and considered.

"Oh, definitely the bombs. You don't get to see all the little emotions when your victims are simply, blown away."

To emphasis, he pressed the tip of blade firmly against Bruce's chin, though he didn't draw blood. Bruce noticed this, he hadn't at any point made him bleed, whereas the Joker had bled profusely from his nose and was still wiping away the occasional drop.

"My turn again, humm. Ooh, I've got one, it's a good one…Would you rather lose…the Batman or the Joker. You or me, to spare the life of the other." He cackled again and then fell silent, watching Bruce intently, watching for the signs.

"Me." Bruce blinked in surprise at his own answer, but then thought it through. Yes, it made sense, he had nothing left to lose and he'd die a hero. The Joker was also taken aback by the man's response and a strange look came into his eyes. He leaned closer, removing the blade from Bruce's face, and did the entirely unexpected, he touched his lips to Bruce's, though only for a moment. Bruce pulled back and looked at the Joker in what he hoped would be taken as disgust. The Joker had closed his eyes and he sat, quite still with his head inclined towards Bruce's.

"I, should never have expected any less from you." His voice was low, and his words were slow. Then, without opening his eyes, he brought the blade back up to his 'capture' and holding the blade up to Bruce's neck to keep him still, he pressed him lips to his again. Bruce struggled against it, not able to move, trying to pull his lips away from the other man's, but it no use, the Joker was pushing back on him, his head had no where to go and the more he struggled the more pressure was being put on the blade point. He gave in and relaxed his tense muscles, knowing no good would come of anything else.  
The wave of disgust, that had hit Bruce with the force of a sledgehammer when their lips had first touched, subsided a little and though it mentally pained him to admit it, the sensation of the Joker pressing himself against him wasn't as bad as it should have been. Human contact had been something Bruce never had to worry about, there was always some woman to hang off his arm. But Rachel had been the only one he'd ever wanted that close to him. Now, the Joker was the closest he was ever going to get to someone who understood him, barring Alfred of course, but he was more like a father.  
There they were, as the Joker had said, the two most powerful men in Gotham, a couple of freaks. Stripped back to the barebones. He'd lost Rachel, and the Joker had taken her. It seemed in some ways like this made the most sense. The Joker's body was warm, and his lips were surprisingly soft. The Joker released the pressure of the blade, in order to see what Bruce would do, but the Joker was allowed to strengthen the kiss by sliding his tongue into the dark knight's mouth. He moaned into the mouth of predominantly naked man and tucked his knife into his pocket before wrapping his arm around Bruce's head and waist. Bruce followed his lead and slide his arms around the clown's waist, pulling him even closer.  
The Joker inhaled deeply and then broke apart from Bruce, to sit back on his lap and pant gently. He couldn't bring himself to look up into Bruce's eyes, not understanding what had just occurred and so not wanting the fantasy to be broken. But Bruce laid his hand on the Joker's thigh and the suited man was startled and shot his head up to catch the smile in the naked Batman's eyes.

"I thought you hated me…?" That statement sounded more like a question, and Bruce shrugged.

"The two most powerful men in Gotham. One, an unstoppable force and the other, an immovable object. We'd be destined to do this forever, so we may as well enjoy it." His words shocked him, but he believed in them. His smile widened and he moved his hand from the Joker's waist to his slim neck, his thumb stroked the other man chin. The touch of the ultimate anti-hero was enough to break the Joker from his momentary doubt. He reached his own hand up and laid it on Bruce's upon his neck.

"Destined, to do _this_ forever…I could live with that." He closed his eyes and leaned in to lay his head against Bruce's shoulder.

Now it was the Joker who had fallen, from a position of ultimate strength, he had revealed his one weakness. The one thing that Bruce could threaten him with, the one thing that could be broken with…Bruce himself.

But Bruce wasn't about to break the man, they were too similar, their bond to great. Bruce smiled to himself and then leaned in close to whisper,

"Tell me, how did you get those scars?"

The Joker sat up and looked at Bruce quizzically with a deep frown.

"I lie, you know." He said this with a hint of shame to his voice and then continued.

"Depending on who it is, I elaborate on simple truths, I didn't really razor blade myself in pity for my wife…"

"Well, tell me my version then. What simple truth would you elaborate for me?"

This brought a small smile to the Jokers scarred face, he licked his scars and opened his mouth to start his story.

"No, wait, do it properly." Bruce reached into the Joker's trouser pocket, causing a slight squirm of pleasure, and handed over the Joker's knife. Then he lifted the Joker's left hand and placed it behind his head.

"I want you to ask me, then tell me. Make me feel it." He briefly pressed his lips the his prince's and then the sat back, awaiting the unpleasant tale. The Joker took a moment to gather his thought and then brought the knife up to Bruce's mouth.

"Do you know how I got these scars?" The madness lit in his eyes and Bruce was reminded of the reason why countless people had feared him, now he admired it.

"I knew this man when I was young, right? A man who told me I was _beautiful_. I worshipped him, I would do anything for him. So he'd hold me, or kiss me, or fuck me and all the time telling me…I was beautiful. Now he had a thing for the S&M and I was young and infatuated, so I let him cut me. I got these horrible scars all over my body, but never the face, he told me I was too beautiful for that. Now I was known for my friendly, smiley demeanour amongst our friends, but this one night, I come home to find him fucking this new guy, a much more beautiful man. Well that night, I didn't smile so much. I screamed, I threw things, I shouted 'You told me, I was beautiful'. Well, he didn't like that so much. He took his flick knife, the one he'd cut me with so many times before and he held my head and told me, to shut up! I cried and then he shouted, 'Where's that smile gone? Let's put that smile back on that face!' and he put the blade in my mouth and he…"

A gunshot rang out from outside the room, the police maybe, or even just a car backfiring, but it cut the Joker off and he jumped, still holding the knife to Bruce's mouth. The tip of the blade caught Bruce's lip made a small cut.

The Joker gasped and threw his knife to the floor as concern flooded his brown eyes. Bruce took his finger to his lip.

"Only a bit of blood, just a scratch. It's okay." But the Joker was squirming uncomfortably on his lap with guilt. He reached towards it and as his fingers touched the drop of blood on the lip of the man he was infatuated with, a low moan escaped his scarred mouth. Bruce touched his hand to the Joker's, who stared with yearning into his eyes and he leaned forward to place his lips to the cut and take in the man's blood. He chuckled as the taste hit his tongue and his lips stole Bruce's again in a forceful kiss. Bruce wrapped his arms around the slighter man's waist again as the Joker pushed their bodies closer together. Just as their kiss was deepening, the Joker pulled back slightly to whisperer in Bruce's ear.

"Rachel Dawes" His words hit Bruce with a great force and caused him to stand from the chair, pushing the Joker off him, who fell back and landed with force on the floor. He moaned as his head made contact with the ground. Bruce stood over his form, trembling with rage, the red fury back in his eyes.

"Why…?" He couldn't speak with the anger that ran through him, feeling uncertain as to why he was so hurt. As if the words of the other man had been some terrible betrayal from some best friend or a faithful lover. The Joker pulled himself up from the floor clumsily, moaning as he massaged the back of his head, then he turned to Bruce, and ran his eyes over the man's body, stiff and trembling with aggression.

"Just wanted to make sure you were still yourself." He sneered as he said it and then turned his back on Bruce and began to walk away to the opposite side of the room. This gesture of complacency was just enough to tip Bruce's anger over the edge, he threw himself forward, grabbing the Joker and pulling him to the floor. The prince let out a grunt as the much heavier Bruce landed on top of him on the hard floor of the small room. Bruce soon got back his bearings and seized the Joker, turning him onto his back to face him. Through bloodshot eyes he stared down at the scarred man, whose face wore an unimpressed look. Then through gritted teeth he spoke.

"You lied yourself into the fears of everyone around you, you played your tricks and you planted your bombs. Hiding behind a mask of crap…" At this he wiped his hands over the Joker's face and held it up for inspection; a blotchy stain of red and white.

"…you seemed as untouchable as the Batman. Well now it's just you and me, no tricks, no weapons. Just you…and me. The Batman may have one unbreakable rule, but I don't. I'm just a man whose lost the one person he could ever have been truly happy with." At this he noticed the tiniest flicker of a grimace steal over the Joker's face, he tried to keep the smug smile of victory out of his eyes.

"You may not have had anything to lose, but now you do Always remember that I know that and never fuck with me. From this point on, we go back to playing it by my rules."

He hauled the Joker up and dragged him over to the chair, shoving him forcibly into it before taking the handcuffs from the floor and fastening them around the Joker's wrists again, this time with one of the Joker's hands through one of the bars in the chair back to keep him down.

He stood back and checked over his work and then walked round the chair, at a slight distance, to pick up the knife from the floor where it had been discarded.

All the time, the Joker kept his eyes on Bruce, fighting down emotions to keep his face impassive. He licked his scars and sighed internally before slumping back into the chair and surrendering to the fate that would be instilled upon him by the one person who could ever truly make him happy.

Chapter 3 soon folks, thank you for your support and for the new readers, keep on R&Ring!! x


	3. Chapter 3

Ah, finally, Part 3. Sprry it's been so long...writers block. I went through 3 drafts of this, but now...it's the way I'm happy with it. Still not M, I don't think I'm brave enough...sorry to anyone who is waiting for it to get more raunchy!

I Love You ALL! I have never had so many reviews or favourites. It makes my heart glad, Thank you , and keep it up!!

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Bruce took a moment to calm down, as he stared down at the knife in his hand. The knife that the Joker had taken to Rachel…Rachel…

He sighed, his shoulders drooped and his head lowered, but there was a time and a place for his grief, and this was not it. He raised his head only to find the Joker had shut his eyes. Bruce frowned for a moment and approached the man, he crouched down so they were at head height and then grabbed the Joker's hair and forced his head up, though he didn't open his eyes.

"Look at me!" Bruce used the Batman's voice as he commanded the clown to open his eyes and face him. He did, he opened his dark brown eyes and locked the with Bruce's own in steely blue. They stayed like that for some time, almost as if they were weighing each other up, but the truth was that both men were consumed with their own thoughts. The Joker's thoughts barely strayed from Bruce and Bruce's rarely strayed from the memory of how the handcuffed man's lips, pressed against his own, had compared to kissing Rachel. He suppressed a shudder as he found he could not separate them for quality, but only for passion. The Joker had given something else in that kiss, a taste of things to come, he'd given himself up to the dark knight, he'd put his very soul into that kiss. Now the Joker was left soulless in front of him and completely in the power of Bruce. He frowned as these truth's worked themselves out in his mind. The Joker still stared at him, longing, the only emotions his eyes were portraying. Bruce leaned in close to the other man, who stifled a gasp, and he said very quietly,

"I want you to know, what it's like, to lose someone you love."

The Joker shook in his seat, rocking it back and forward, causing a startled Bruce to jump away from him. The Joker continued to shake the chair, a mad grimace across his scarred face and a wildness in his eyes.

"Don't you think I know? Don't you think I know what it's like to lose someone you love? You don't know me, Bruce!" He calmed a little and stopped rocking the chair, but he couldn't bring himself to look in the eyes of the man he hated needing the way he did. Bruce was shocked, he sat mouth slightly open, staring at the Joker. What had he done?

"Don't try to mess me up, Bruce. Torture me, fuck me, play games with me, but don't try to mess me up. You can't, it's too late for that."

He let out a deep chuckle and then a deep sigh. As he turned to look back at Bruce, the man had gone. He looked around for him for a moment, only to find that he behind him, unlocking the handcuffs that kept him in his chair. When he felt the pressure released and heard the clink of the metal fall away from his wrists, he didn't dare move for a moment. Then he brought his hands round from the back of the chair and placed them on his knees. Bruce walked back around the chair and put the handcuffs on the floor.

"You're free to go, Joker. Free to walk out of here, or kill me." Bruce laughed at his own…joke?

The Joker stared at the sitting, resignated man. Bruce was smiling, a strangely calm look in his eyes, then he walked across the room and slide down the wall, just as the Joker had done. The Joker licked his scars and clicked the bones in his neck, it had been a strange night.

"What if I don't want to do…either of those things?" He rearranged himself in his chair, straightening out his collar and his cuffs, giving Bruce time to decide what would happen next.

"Then, you stay and neither of us die and this night continues on around us." His voice was almost musical, certainly without stress or aggression. He looked up at the Joker and as their eyes met, the slightest tingle of want warmed his skin, but faded soon after, though the other man didn't cease his gaze.

"I killed people…" The Joker said this in a vain attempt to wipe the jovial expression off Bruce's face, it didn't work. "I blew up a hospital, I killed coppers, I killed your Rachel!" He was getting desperate now, but nothing he said seemed to have any impact. Bruce just stared up at him, smiling.

"I killed them for you, Bruce." This was whispered, and the Joker looked away as he said it. Bruce tilted his head to one side and observed the emotions that were being badly hidden on the the painted face of the clown.

"Then you should be pleased. Here I am. Your plans worked." He stood and crossed the room. Picking up the knife from the floor as he went. As he got closer, the Joker turned back to him and his eyes fixed on the knife in Bruce's hand. Bruce stood only inches away and the blade in his hands reached forward to stroke up and down the Joker's cheek, but the seated man stood, the metal chair fell down behind him and he kicked at it to move it from his feet. Bruce continued to advance, the smile on his face becoming wild, the blade reaching up the other man's face. The wall stopped the Joker's retreat and he flattened himself against it, the blade tip reflected in his wide, fearful eyes.

"You killed them for me, well I'm all yours." At this, Bruce threw down the knife and clamped his hands on either side of the Joker's face before pulling him into a painfully fierce kiss. It could not have been called affectionate or tender, but desperate and frantic. The fully clothed man felt the strength drain from his legs and he had to wrap his arms around to Bruce in order to not slide to the floor. Bruce closed his eyes tight and pressed himself against the prince's body, feeling his arms wrapped around him. It was somehow…safe. Alone in this room, they were free to do whatever they chose; free to betray, free to feel emotions that wouldn't be safe outside of this room. They could be other people, in a world filled with other people's mess. Then the moment they stepped out into that world beyond the box, it would all come back. All their responsibilities, all their charges, all their felonies. They both knew this, they both shared the dread of it as they clung to each other, pressing so hard their bodies seemed to merge together.

Outside this room they were invincible, utterly formidable. Dangerous enemies with dirty tricks. In this room, they were mere mortals, just men who could be broken down and defeated. They were just a couple of freaks, seeking comfort in a world that didn't understand them. They symbolized the extremes of the world they lived in, Justice and Chaos. Alone, the world wouldn't function right, but together they completed each other, just as the Joker had said in the interrogation room. He had been right.

The Joker let himself be held against the wall, feeling the strength in the arms that pinned him upright. He shared the knowledge that nothing would be the same when they left this place and so he held on for as long as Bruce would let him. As their bodies were pushed closer and closer together, he could feel the other man's heartbeat and his steady breathing. It was real, the only thing that had been real in his life for years. It brought back the memory of the promise his childhood had once offered, a promise that been broken…again….and again…

Now he was being fixed, slowly but somehow surely. He breathed in the Bruce's scent it filled his senses with a new promise, the promise of things to come. A promise that his life would never be the same again.

Finally, Bruce pulled out of the kiss and panted, closing his eyes to keep the smile off his face. He let go of the Joker who rested back on the wall to regain his balance. The kiss had stirred things with in Bruce, feelings he'd never believed possible for him to feel towards such a man as the Joker. He turned away and placed hand over his eyes, massaging his temples. His breath heaved his shoulders and his head swam.

"Okay then," Bruce inhaled sharply and looked around the room, not knowing exactly what he was looking for. "We have to leave, we can't stay in here forever." 'No matter how much I'd like too', both thought simultaneously. He turned to look at the Joker, who stood still leaning against the wall, eyes closed, and breathing deeply. He licked his scars and opened his eyes, locking his with Bruce's. Bruce's stomach churned pleasantly.

"Where, exactly, do you plan on…taking me?" He let the obvious innuendo hang in the space between then, Bruce turned away quickly.

He walked to where his suit lay and picked up the inner material of his bat suit to began pulling it on.

"I'm taking you back to my apartment. This is not some plan to fuck you, so mind you be on your best behaviour, or everything that has happened this night will be undone and I'll hunt you like you deserve to be hunted."

Now it was Bruce's turn to let _his_ words hang in the air between them, the Joker smirked, nodded and walked the small pile of his own clothes; socks, shoes, coat. When they were both fully clothed again, Bruce, now as Batman, walked over to one wall of the room, and pressed a hidden button. The wall slide to the left revealing a crack easily big enough for both men to fit through, back into the cold night air.

The Joker breathed in deeply and let city air filled his lungs. He didn't recognise where they were, but saw the black motorcycle and followed Batman over to it.

Bruce's mind was filled with a strange sort of fear, after everything that had happened, here they were, in the open air again. Was everything back the way it had been already? Would it ever really be the same? There was only one to find out. He walked over to the motorcycle, checking around him first, ensuring the area as deserted.

"Climb on behind me." He frowned as he looked over the form of the Joker, streaked make-up distorting his face even more, his obvious purple coat and lank green hair. Maybe they should have stayed in the room after all.

"Can you…?" He struggled to think of a way in which the painted Prince could conceal himself whilst riding on large motorcycle with Batman…Bruce suddenly felt like he was in some bizarre masquerade dream. He held back a laugh. He wasn't the same man who'd dragged the unconscious form of the Joker into the tiny metal room just a few hours ago. It scared him how quickly a man could change.

"Maybe…pull your coat over your head?" The Joker smirked at the idea of it, as their outlandish situation fully realised itself to him. He held up a hand and turned away from Bruce, who frowned with curiosity. When the Joker turned back to face him, he couldn't help but gasp.

He was just a man, no make up now, hair almost neatly arranged behind each ear, no make-up, just…skin. In the poor light and without the make-up, Bruce could barely see the scars. There before him stood an, albeit a little haphazard, handsome man.

"Don't tell me…I look better with the crap on, huh?" His voice, whilst obviously trying to sound like he didn't give a damn, revealed a self-conscious shyness that Bruce also hadn't been expecting. He muttered that, no he was fine, much better, not as obvious, then as a distraction, climbed onto the motorcycle and waited until he felt the Joker climb on behind him and wrap his arms around his waist for security. As the contact between them began to stir things inside Bruce once more, he busied himself with starting up the engine and pulling away from the room they had shared for those fateful hours and tried to figure it out what to do next. He couldn't take the Joker straight to his apartment, not as Batman. He'd have to go to the cargo store first. Drop off the motorcycle and change into clothes. Find his passenger an over coat to wear to get him back without causing bringing any attention to his 'guest'. So he headed off in the direction of the store and 20 minutes later was back out in the night air in a sharp suit, the Joker standing next to him wearing a long evening coat. Now, as the face paint free man had even run a comb through his hair, he was even more attractive and Bruce was finding it hard to concentrate. To keep his mind from wandering down _that_ route, Bruce busied himself with phoning Alfred. His fatherly butler seemed relieved to hear the Bruce's voice and although it was quite early in the morning, he amiably agreed to pick Bruce up from a few blocks away from the cargo store. He offered to pick him up from the store itself but Bruce told him that he'd walk a little way. He wanted some air. Alfred frowned over the phone, but consented. Bruce cut the phone call short. He looked over at the Joker, who had stood unsettlingly still for the length of the phone call. It was unlike him to be so silent.

"Come on, we're walking a few blocks. Then Alfred will pick us up." Bruce began to walk, waiting for the Joker to follow, he did. Bruce sighed with tiredness and placed his hands on his temples, trying to sharpen his mind, whilst the Joker walked awkwardly besides him. They walked in silence for a block and a half, Bruce kept a vague eye out for trouble, but it was late and with no sign of the Batman or the Joker at the scaffolding site, the cops had focused their attention elsewhere. This part of the city was almost entirely empty of life. It yet again felt like they were the only two people in existence.

The Joker felt different now. A kind of calm had spread itself across him, a kind of resignation. He'd felt broken for so long, but this was new, hopeful. He flicked his eyes across to Bruce, who walked on by his side. It felt as though they had known each other forever, every inch of each other, every subtly. As if they had never been enemies of each other at all, but perhaps long lost friends or long-terms partners. Perhaps it was happiness? He hadn't known that for a long time, he didn't even know if he would recognise it if it came, but he reckoned that this was pretty close. The men shared an unspoken respect for each other, a bond that had been brought into life that very night.

"When I…kissed you that first time, where you imagining it was Rachel?" He asked the question slowly and warily. Not wishing it to cause hurt to the man in the dark blue suit. Bruce stopped walking for a moment, deep in thought.

"No, I was comparing it to Rachel's." His stomach churned a little as he said it, but he felt the need to be honest. "I'd never kissed a man before." He laughed gently at how…childish it sounded. The Joker chuckled softly too, then asked a second question.

"Was I any good? Only I haven't kissed anyone for a long time…"

Bruce turned to him, and gazed into the eyes of the strangely handsome man, who seemed to stand before only for the purpose of being judged.

"Yes," Bruce's voice was small, only just above a whisper. "You were…" He was about to carry on when a short _beep_ from Alfred's car stopped him as he spoke. Both men turned to find the car pulling up besides them. Bruce walked across to the driver's side and indicated that Alfred should wind the window down. He said a few words to his butler and Alfred shot an accusing glance towards the Joker who stood a little way back from the car. Then he nodded to Bruce and turned his head back to staring out of the windscreen. A look of vast disapproval was set across his features. Bruce indicated to the car and the Joker came forward, opening the back door on the right side of the car so he could ride in the seat behind Bruce rather than Alfred.

The Joker, feeling more self-conscious than he ever had in make-up, climbed into the car, settling himself behind Bruce's seat. He tried to keep his eyes away from both of the two men in the front of the car, so busied himself with finding the seat-belt. Bruce cleared his throat and spoke to Alfred.

"Alfred, I trust you. Take us back to the apartment, then take the rest of the night off. I don't know, book yourself into an apartment. We have business to attend to." Alfred opened his mouth to speak, but Bruce raised a hand.

"I trust you, now trust me. I wouldn't ask you if I didn't need to. Please, Alfred."

He turned to the old man, and gave him a look that spoke of control and 'knowing what I'm doing'. Alfred grumbled, but consented, a feeling in him that spoke of things he didn't understand. He pulled the car away from the sidewalk and dove off into Gotham, in the direction of the apartment.

Both Bruce and the Joker inwardly sighed, knowing that the night still had a lot of dark yet to go, before the dawn would come.

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There we go. It may have ended...I don't know. But I haven't even begun to write part 4 yet, so please bear with me...drowning under A lvl work at the mo. sends many many kisses


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